


Beached

by Ameliorably



Category: NCIS
Genre: Amnesia, Episode: s03e23 Hiatus Part I, Episode: s03e24 Hiatus Part II, F/M, Recovery, post ep, remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-09 12:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20994746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameliorably/pseuds/Ameliorably
Summary: After the events of Hiatus, Gibbs is down in Mexico with Mike Franks, and through the fragments of memory, is trying to figure out who Jenny really is to him.





	1. Chapter 1

Gibbs hammered a nail into a shingle he was reattaching to Mike’s roof, the sharp staccato of the hammer meeting its target drifting off on the sea breeze. He’d been down here less than a day and already he couldn’t stand to be idle. He reached for another and nail and lined it up, only to pick it up again and palm it when yet another flashback assaulted his senses. They were frequent and had been since what Mike had taken to calling his ‘near death experience’.

It was her again: His boss, the director. Jenny, _Jen, whoever the hell she was. _

The ‘what’ was becoming clearer, he was starting to get a sense of when, and the how still a mystery, but what struck him the most strength of emotion that accompanied the memories. His heart felt swollen and raw when he thought of her, like he might reach out to touch her only to find her gone. It was different to the debilitating, world shattering blow of losing Shannon. While that had faded into the background like the dull ache of a crippled limb, Jenny remained fresh in his mind. It was a lesser wound, but one that bled often, never quite scabbing over. In its own way it made sense.

She was still here, she was alive, and part of him was angry at her in a faded kind of way. It probably had something to do with why they were no longer an item, but he couldn’t be certain. He couldn’t be certain about anything anymore.

He changed tack and tried for a moment to remember his wives, but even less was forthcoming. He remembered a couple of names, maybe their faces. _“Diane, Stephanie and…?” _ There was at least one in the middle there he couldn’t even remember. “_How many times had Jenny said he’d been married? Three.” _Which meant he’d forgotten one, but it didn’t bother him, though he absently noted that it probably should.

The shock and horror of his awakening at the hospital was a blur. He remembered the pain, he remembered the anguish and wanting to die from the sheer brutality it of it, but the only other thing he could recall was the look on Jenny’s face as he'd grabbed her by the lapels and demanded his family’s return. She'd been devastated, and a maybe little bit afraid at his sudden physical confrontation. Not just because he’d completely dismissed her, but because she couldn't produce what he so desperately wanted. _She was hurting more for him than herself._

He’d replayed it in his mind as much as he could stand to, and sifted through the few fragments he had, and the only conclusion he could reach was that though they were over somehow, business was unfinished.

The voice of Mike Franks punctuated his thoughts. “You okay up there, Probie? You haven’t hit a nail in five minutes.”

Gibbs leaned over and peered down at him but said nothing.

Mike smirked at him. “Oh, I know that look, you’re thinking about a woman. Wouldn’t happen to be that lady boss of yours now, would it?”

Gibbs shrugged noncommittally.

“I thought so.” 

Gibbs stared at him with the inscrutable look of a man not all there and Mike sighed. “C’mon, Probie, it’s about time we had some lunch.”

* * *

The local cantina was buzzing with life, the commotion of people going about their business down here was less like the hum of an American crowd and more like a cacophony of colourful birds. Mike took a long hard look at Gibbs sitting unseeingly at the bar before beckoning the place’s owner, Camila, over to them. “Bring us a couple of beers, will you? And maybe some of whatever tasty morsel you’ve got going today, other than yourself, of course.”

Camila swatted him on the arm before casting her gaze over Gibbs. “Is he okay?” she asked, nodding towards the other man, who had his elbows resting on the bar and was still gazing off into nothing.

“Ah, he’ll be fine.” Mike said, brushing her off, but truthfully, he had his own concerns. He’d known Gibbs for a long time, they’d shared a lot of silences, but for those he’d normally at least been mentally present. The man had barely even blinked when Camila had spoken to him, and his chivalry alone would normally have demanded he reply. Gibbs was deep in something, that was for sure; deep in whatever that bomb had shook loose in his brain.

The commotion around Gibbs barely touched him as it drifted around him like a dull haze. He was only vaguely aware that Mike had spoken either to him or someone else, and it’d washed over him like tepid water. He was lost again, his focus turned inwards as he tried to scrabble together the elusive fragments of his scrambled brain.

He’d remembered a few things: more about his team, the echo of his house as he walked through it alone, the satisfaction he felt as he tended to the boat in his basement, and the self-loathing he felt whenever he thought of the wives he’d left in his wake, but once again his mind turned to Jenny. These particular fragments were almost care worn from turning them over again and again. He _needed_ to know more. She wasn’t Shannon and she wasn’t a wife, and but was significant _and she was still here_. Though he was starting to wonder if maybe she had actually left him, but he couldn’t quite place why.

The first thing he'd remembered about her had been them making love in a bed in a hotel room in a foreign country, and the memory had hit with the same force as everything that he’d remembered in hospital. The initial shock it had hit with had dulled, but the intensity of the memory itself stayed as strong as ever.

The next time he remembered her he’d been sitting in the airport waiting for the plane to Mexico when suddenly, _vividly _he remembered walking with her. _It was dark, nighttime, and they were on what looked like a bridge across the Seine that was all lit up in the night, the yellowish light making their faces glow in the darkness. Her hair, much longer then, was set in gentle curls that fell about her shoulders, and he’d wanted to reach out and touch it. They were holding hands, and Jenny was laughing; a throaty, genuine sound, as she bumped shoulders with him affectionately. She’d been teasing him. He was smiling too, he knew it, and for a moment he’d felt happy and free._

At the hospital she’d said she was his partner, and as far as he could tell she’d meant work partner, but so far, the only piece he had that might fit with that was what had come back the night before. He’d been in bed when it had struck, but sleep had refused to claim him, and suddenly, he’d been down in the morgue with Ducky, and their conversation echoed around the insides of his skull.

_“Jethro, where on earth is Jennifer?” He’d asked, his brow furrowed with concern._

_“I don’t know.” Gibbs had answered, though it was only a half truth. He knew he’d known more than he was letting on, and was in Israel? Cairo? Still in Europe? Somewhere._

_“Well wasn’t she with you on the plane?” Ducky had asked, probing further._

_“Nope.”_

_There had been a beat’s pause as the man had scrutinised him in a futile attempt to glean more, and when he’d spoken next his tone was accusatory._

_“What have you done, Jethro?”_

And the truth was he didn’t know, but nonetheless was hit with a fresh wave of betrayal and hurt

He was as confused as ever. He rubbed his face and his hands stopped to rest over his eyes. She’d gone, but then she’d come back, though they weren’t together now, but there were still feelings. He didn’t know whether she’d left him, or the job had torn them apart.

Mike’s voice brought him back to the present. “You remember something else, Probie? His gruff tone was neutral, but his concern was obvious.

“Yup.”

“Who’s it about this time?” Mike asked, though he had a sneaking suspicion. He’d expected a most of Gibbs’s breakthroughs to be about his first wife and daughter, but so far that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Jenny.” Gibbs stated simply, seeing no point in hiding it. “I'm trying to remember who she is.”

“She’s your boss.”

“Yeah, but who is she to me?”

“I’ve got no idea. You told at the hospital you only remembered her as Jenny. What went on between you two anyway?”

“Well I dunno, Mike, would I be asking if I knew?” Gibbs demanded, unimpressed with the question. “She said she was my partner, but I don’t remember.”

“But you remember something.”

“I remember being with her in Paris; walking, laughing... other things.”

“Ha, other things. You mean like the naked tango?”

“Yeah,” Gibbs answered, smirking a little.

“I knew it!” Mike declared triumphantly, taking a sip of his beer. “You know she called here not too long after you arrived; wanted to make sure you were alright, didn’t want me to tell you. The girl cares about you, Jethro - hell, she was the one who called me up there to you in the beginning. Though I don’t know how she found me, ‘cause I didn't leave no address. Last thing I wanted was for NCIS to come looking for me, there was a reason I retired.”

Gibbs smirked at this. _She always was a good investigator, _though he still couldn’t tell how he knew. He also knew she was deliberately staying out of his way, though he couldn’t tell whether it was because he’d barely given her so much as a goodbye, or if it was because she knew him well enough to do so. Her expression had been grave as he’d told her he was done, and her eyes sad, but he couldn’t know anything until he knew more.


	2. Chapter 2

That night his dreams were of Jenny and another strange hotel room. This time the atmosphere was tense, and they were nowhere near the bed in the middle of the room. 

_She was sat at a dressing table in a robe applying makeup to her face. Her hair was pulled back into a tight knot, and he watched her as she slipped a short, black wig neatly into place over the top. They’d done this before. He looked down at his own task; he was transcribing a seemingly random string of numbers from the photographs laid out in front of him. They meant something. Somehow all this would help them find their mark. Mark for what? Death. If not now, later._

_Jenny rose from her position and walked over to him. “You ready?” she asked, watching him as he wrote_

_“Yeah.” he replied as he copied the numbers from the final photograph onto the piece of paper._

_He looked up at her and was met with a solemn expression, her eyes made all the larger by the pitch-black wig she wore. “I have a bad feeling about this.” She said,_ and Gibbs jolted awake, reaching for her hand in the night. 

His heart pounded as he sat up and tried to remember where he was. _Mike, Mexico._ The waves crashed out on the beach and he lay back down onto the narrow bed as the sound confirmed his location. 

More images flickered unbidden into the fore of his mind.

_A shot in the night and the screams of a woman. He knew it was Jenny._

_It was dark. He followed that horrible sound as his skin prickled with cold and the fear she might die._

_She was on the ground, still screaming._

_A hole in her thigh, blood everywhere._

_Relief. Only her leg. It’s only her leg._

_“Jen, shhh.”_

_Jen._

_Then they were somewhere else, indoors, and there’s another man with them. Decker._

_She’s still screaming, only it’s now muffled by a pillow._

_The smell of burning flesh hits him hard, and he's back on a battleground._

_Field medicine._

_No hospitals here, not for deep cover operatives in a strange land._

Gibbs blinked back to reality and stared at the Mexican ceiling above him and the shadows that danced across it. Nausea rose up in the back of his throat. He wanted to call her just to make sure she was okay, but that was stupid.

It was years later now, at least half a decade, and she was his boss, not his lover, _and she was fine._

His fingers ached to touch her, which felt like a familiar feeling.

_“That’s too bad. I missed you, Jen.”_

_They were in the squad room and she was standing above him on the stairs dressed in a smart suit with her coppery hair all coiled up on the back of her head._

_She came back. This was when she’d turned up as director._

_He meant what he said to her, and she looked conflicted._

_Job Vs Gibbs, the way it’d always been._

Was that how it ended, she’d chose the job over him? Somehow it fit, but it didn't explain why she'd looked at him like she did. Maybe it was regret, he couldn't be sure. 

He closed his eyes again, willing himself to give in to the exhaustion that dwelled in his bones, but the moment he does he's hit with another vision, this time of Kelly. 

_Her blue eyes sparkled in her beautiful face as she giggled. “Daddy!” She squealed playfully, and the little blonde girl next to her giggled as well._

_Her name was M something. Maddie? Kelly’s friend. _

His eyes snapped open and he staggered clumsily from his bed. 

_No._

He wanted to scream and yell at the pain and injustice of it all, but he didn't want to remember, not now or ever. 

Gibbs clumsily pulled on a sweater and ignored the tears that streamed down his face. He missed his boat and his basement, and he was sick of beer.

The next best thing was the beach.

He sat down on the cool sand and felt the mild breeze circulate around him.

Mike Franks looked out of the cabin window at his old friend’s retreating back and figured he should probably go after him. Normally he wouldn’t bother. Firstly, because he didn’t do that, and secondly, old Jethro always could take care of himself and certainly didn’t need babysitting, but with new Jethro he wasn’t sure, and better safe than sorry.

Gibbs looked up when he heard Mike approach. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I’d have had to be asleep first. You wanna talk about it?”

“Nope”

“Come on, Jethro, you try keeping all that inside and you’ll end up crazier than you are now.”

Gibbs said nothing.

“You remember anything other than Ms Director?”

“Yeah. Kelly.”

“I’m sorry Jethro, I truly am.”

There was a moment’s silence. “Remembered some stuff about Europe, too.”

“With Jenny?”

“Yeah, she got shot.”

“Oh well, at least you know she lived to annoy you another day. You ever work with her before that assignment?” 

_He was sitting at his desk quietly seething, and Burley and Decker had sensed his mood and made themselves scarce. Morrow had just told him he was getting a partner new partner now that Mike was gone. That hadn't been the problem; neither had the fact that she was female, though he'd been enjoying the lack of estrogen at work given how much of a pain in the ass Diane was being. No, the icing on the cake was that she had no law enforcement experience. She seemed to be a bored analyst who'd decided one day she wanted to go to FLETC, and now Morrow had stuck her with him. _

_He’d flipped open her file and scanned the details. _

_Name: Jennifer Shepard, Date of birth: October 12th, 1967. Marital Status: Single, Degree in Political Science, graduated with honours. Great, a degree in manipulating and kissing ass._

_He’d then squinted at the thumbnail photo of her attached to the corner. Red hair. Gibbs snorted. Either Morrow knew about his preference in women and had done it on purpose, or the universe was messing with him. She was good looking, too. Nice face, pretty eyes. _

_Didn't matter. She had all the hallmarks of being a pain in the ass, so it didn't matter what she looked like. _

_Turned out she was also tall, athletic in build and had legs went on for days. _

_She was going to be a Pain in the ass. _

_Only she wasn't. She was smart and competent with sharp wit and a wry sense of humour. And by the middle of the day he'd been annoyed at himself because he liked her. _

"Yeah. She was assigned to my team right after you quit."

"I told you, Probie, I retired."

“There a reason you're asking me all this, Mike?”

“Doctors told me to get you talking, said it'd do you good.”

Gibbs gave a rueful chuckle. 

“So, you gonna do anything about her?”

“Doctors tell you to ask me that too?”

“Nope, I was curious. You obviously like the girl, given how you're mostly thinking about her.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, how so?”

“Well, first I’d need to know how it ended.”

“Ah, yeah, there is that. Guess you’ll just have to remember harder then, won’t you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Kudos/comments much appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs hammered another nail into Mike’s roof and sat back to have a drink of water.

_He was back on the bridge with Jenny. They’d finished their assignments and had a few days free before they received their next orders. The lighting was the same as before, only this time they stopped to look over the edge at the water flowing beneath it, and when he turned to look at her, she was no longer smiling. Her expression was serious, and she was squinting slightly as if to brace herself against what she was about to say. “I love you, Jethro.”_

_Reflexively he brushed her off. He laughed, “That’ll be the day.” _

_She turned away quickly and pulled her hand from his, but it was hard to miss the hurt that flashed across her face._

_His blood ran cold. He’d slowly been coming to terms with the fact that he had feelings for her, but he’d been unprepared for her to bring them up like she did, but it’d be okay. It wasn’t as if she was going anywhere._

But he'd been wrong. Gibbs took a deep breath and looked out over the water as things started to come together with an uncomfortable clarity. He was certain she’d left him now; he just didn’t know how.

There was more, there had to be more.

_They’d just landed in London. The Navy had sent a private jet for the ride across the channel as a reward for their job well done._

_She was quiet on the ride over; he’d figured she was tired._

_She got off the plane first and went to get her luggage, but by the time he got there she was nowhere to be seen. _

_He got back on the plane thinking maybe she’d forgotten something, but she wasn’t there either. _

_His heart sank, and then he’d seen her coat. The beige of it was almost the same colour as the plane seat, but he’d know it anywhere. He’d bought it for her after Marseille. He’d seen her admiring it in an expensive little boutique in Paris and gone back later to buy it for her. _

_With a creeping sense of dread, he’d picked it up and checked the pockets, one after the other._

_His hand found nothing in the first, but his hand slid into the second one and drew out a neatly folded letter._

_She was gone. _

The realisation was like being doused with cold water.

_It wasn't just the job._

He knew it, and on some level, he’d always known it: What he'd said on that bridge mattered.

He needed a phone, and the nearest one was at the cantina.

He threw down his water bottle and quickly descended the ladder.

Mike looked up from his position in his hammock. “Nothin’s on fire is it, Probie?”

“I need a phone.” He said before disappearing into the house to find something to pay Camila with.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that lady director of yours now, would it?”

His only response was silence.

“Well I'll take that as a yes.” Mike muttered and took a sip of his beer. 

Gibbs handed Camila a wad of bills. “I need to place a call to Washington.”

“Is everything okay, Senor Gibbs?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” he said, and she handed him the phone.

“You wanna go out the back for some privacy?”

He nodded once and followed her proffered arm. 

Once alone Gibbs punched in the familiar number and put the phone to his ear

It rang twice before she picked up.

"Jen?"

"Jethro, is everything okay?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

"Yeah, just wanted to apologise."

"Apologise, for what?"

“For what I said in Paris.”

“I'm sorry, Jethro, you're going to have to be a little more specific.” Her tone was airy, but Gibbs could hear her apprehension. She knew.

"We were on a bridge, and you told me you loved me, and I told you that'd be the day. I'm sorry."

Silence greeted him. 

"Jen, you there?"

“Why now, Jethro?” she asked quietly, her voice husky.

“I just remembered, and I realised.”

“Realised what?”

“I screwed up.”

He heard her exhale slowly. “Well, what exactly are you proposing we do about it?”

Gibbs smiled at the word ‘we’. “Well, I was wondering how you'd like to take a trip to Mexico…”

“Hey Jethro,” Mike called, coming out of the house. “When’s your lady friend getting here?”

“Anytime now.” Not long after he’d called Jenny had left a message with Camila saying that she’d be flying down the next day after work, and Baja was three hours behind that.

“I retire, I keep to myself and try to live a quiet life, and now the director of NCIS is coming to stay at my place. This is all your fault, Probie.” 

Gibbs smirked and Mike rolled his eyes before continuing. “I’ve changed the sheets on my bed, she can have that one, and I’ll sleep in the hammock.”

“Nah, I’ll take the hammock. Don’t wanna put you out of home.” Gibbs said, adding more driftwood to a pile he was building. The sun was going down and the air was getting cooler.

“What, you planning on sneaking into bed with her?”

“Nah, she hasn’t agreed to anything yet.”

“Other than flying all the way down here for you. What did you say to her anyway?”

“Just apologised.”

“Apologised!”

“Uhuh.”

“For what!”

Gibbs smirked and shrugged.

Mike snorted derisively. “Women. You building a fire?”

“Yup”

“Well how romantic of you.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes and said nothing.

“Uh, Jethro?”

Gibbs looked up at him, and Mike nodded to a travel-worn Jenny standing on the end of the trail beside the house. Her blouse and slacks looking decidedly less crisp than they no doubt did this morning. 

“Evening, di-rec-tor.” Mike called out to her. 

“Mike,” she nodded in acknowledgment. 

Gibbs walked over to where she was standing. “Jen,” he greeted softly.

“Jethro,” she greeted in kind, her eyes scanning his face. “How’s your head?” She asked as her fingers ghosted gently over the wound above his left eye.

“Fine.” He said and caught her fingers in his.

Mike cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m gonna leave you two lovebirds and head down to the cantina. You have fun now, won't you.” He said, and promptly excused himself from the scene, keen to avoid any potential escalation in displays of affection.

Jenny slipped the bag she’d been carrying from her shoulder and let it drop to the sand before following Gibbs over to the wood pile.  
  


“You hungry?” he asked. He had a cooler fill of food with him that he’d paid Camila to make for the occasion.

Jenny smiled. “I ate on the plane, but that was a little while ago.”

Gibbs reached into his pocket, pulled out a book of matches and struck one as he busied himself with lighting the fire.

Jenny studied him as the orange from the growing flames illuminated his face. “What are we doing here, Jethro?”

“Talking.” He replied, stating the obvious.

“Oh, is that was this is?” Jenny asked. She raised her eyebrows in a mixture of amusement and exasperation at his single-word answer and sat down on one of the chairs.

Gibbs stood up and tipped his head in acquiescence. “Been doing a lot of thinking.”

“About us?”

“Yeah, and about why you left,” Gibbs could sense her apprehension, but pressed on regardless. “If I’d said something else on that bridge, would it have made a difference?”

“I left because I didn’t want to end up with nothing; the promotion was something. There was no point staying if you didn’t feel the same way.”

Gibbs sank into the chair beside her. “That day, you caught me off guard. Sometimes it takes me a while to know what I’m feeling.”

Jenny chuckled ruefully. “If I’d have known back then there was a chance you felt the same way, I’d have stayed in a heartbeat.”

“What about now?”

“Well that depends.”

“On what?”

“On how you feel about me now.”

Gibbs leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She tasted of familiarity and saltiness brought about by a warm day. He pulled back to look at her, and her eyes shone in the half light.

"I love you too." He said, relinquishing the answer he’d held onto for so long.

Her eyes were large and solemn as she gave a small smile, and they slid shut languidly as he leaned in once more.

It had been too long since they'd touched in any meaningful way, yet in kissing her no time had passed between them. He ran his fingers through her now much shorter hair, causing it to stick up as he went.

When they broke apart once more, Gibbs picked up her hand and pressed it to his lips.

Jenny laughed. “You know, this kind of me of reminds me of when we were in Serbia.”

Mike trudged along the trail home, pleasantly buzzed after his evening at the cantina, hoping to heaven that in the time that he’d been gone, Gibbs and his lady director had got whatever overly amorous reunion they no doubt had planned out of their systems.

As he drew nearer the smell of wood smoke reached him first, followed by the voices of the pair in question, and feminine laughter.

Mike frowned. He’d been expecting them to have disappeared inside, or at the very least be engaged in some kind of inappropriate, semi-nude public display of affection, but he was obviously mistaken.

For a fleeting moment he wondered if he’d maybe misjudged the nature of their relationship, but as he rounded the corner he witnessed Jenny get up to grab another beer, only to be snagged around the waist by Gibbs and pulled onto his lap; a move which earned him being punched on the arm apparently also warranted a round of kissing.

“Yuck,” Mike muttered to himself. He wanted to call out to them to get a room, except that’d mean they were closer to where he’d be sleeping. Bur he wasn’t really too upset about it. Jethro looked more alive than he had in a long time, and if this was what it took for that to happen, then so be it.

The fact that that happened to be exchanging saliva with the director of NCIS on a beach gave him a moment’s smirk.

They paid him no attention as he opened the door and went inside.

“Well played, Jethro, well played.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? I hope you enjoyed this little journey through Gibbs's memories.
> 
> Now, an update on Unintended for those interested. I'm sorry it's taking so long! It's been a combination of writing time being scarce and not being that happy with what I'd written. There's sometimes a fine line to tread between what Gibbs and Jen would and wouldn't say to each other and they've been driving me insane. But anyhow, long story short is taking time out to write Beached has made me feel a little more inspired and connected with the characters, and I'm using that as fuel with some success. Thanks for being patient with me x.


End file.
